


Cosmo Tips

by Purpleonionofsex



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpleonionofsex/pseuds/Purpleonionofsex
Summary: Geralt sees Jaskier a few years after the whole Golden Dragon debacle and wasn't prepared for how hot he became. He also finds advice to seduce him in an unexpected way.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 114





	Cosmo Tips

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is unbetaed and English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistake. I don't write often but a friend and I had a laugh about old Cosmo tips and I had to write a crackfic about it. Also, as it is my first time posting here, I'm new to the whole tag thing, so let me know if I forgot anything. I only watched the TV show and haven't read the books or played the games, and this is set a few years after the end of season 1.  
> Enjoy!

When Geralt enters the tavern, he is not sure why he is surprised. Granted, he hasn’t seen Jaskier in a few years (7 years, 3 months and 2 weeks exactly), but they were bound to bump into each other at some point. They always do.

But he is surprised, because Jaskier is... older. Again, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, Geralt is quite used to seeing humans getting older and older in what sometimes seem like the blink of an eye. But as he grew older, Jaskier suddenly became... hot? What looked like a yapping puppy for years to Geralt now looks like a distinguished bard with scruff on his face and a few grey hairs. He filled out a bit, not much, but enough to fill his garments nicely. And although Geralt is not one for fashion and couldn’t care less about clothes, he has to admit Jaskier is wearing a wealthier outfit than last time and the color really brings out his eyes.

This is a turn of event he was really not expecting.

Geralt has been at ease with his sexuality for years, and he knows what he likes. With women, alive and willing are usually enough for his cock, and deadly and cunning are enough for his heart. But he could never exactly pinpoint what he found attractive in men, and those attractions were far rarer. One thing for sure, he was suddenly in one of these rare cases.

Someone enters the tavern behind him, and he is finally snapped out of his daydream. How long has he been standing near the door, staring at the bard without moving? Not long enough for anyone to notice, as no one seems to be looking at him, and it’s probably not so out of character for people having a vague idea of who he is.

He takes a few steps forward and finds a table behind a pillar that should hide him enough for Jaskier not to spot him easily, but allow him to look his fill at the bard.

He feels a bit off kilter following this revelation, and he needs to get his bearings. He orders a drink, something strong, and watches as Jaskier begins to sing a new song.

_The ‘’fairer sex’’_

_They often call it_

_But her love’s as unfair as a crook_

This is one Geralt has never had the chance to hear yet, but judging from the reaction around him, this is a popular one and a crowd’s pleaser.

_I’m weak, my love, and I am wanting_

_If this is the path I must trudge_

Geralt finds himself listening to the lyrics more attentively that he normally would and it feels... oddly familiar. He remembers the last time he saw Jaskier, the Golden Dragon, Yennefer and the harsh words escaping his lips to put hurt in Jaskier’s eyes. It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago all the same.

That’s when he is interrupted by an old lady staring at him one table over. She looks over 70, and it’s not often you see someone this old, even less in a tavern. There’s a faint scent of magic around her, which would explain her age. She smiles at Geralt and gets up to come sit with him. He scowls.

“I am sorry to bother you, Witcher, but my name is Cosmo, and I have a piece of advice for you.”

Geralt can’t help arching an eyebrow. He is still surprised people keep giving him advice when he rarely follows any, and usually knows better. They tend to forget how old he is and how much he has seen.

The crone hands him a piece of paper, waiting a few seconds for Geralt to take it. When he doesn’t move, she just smiles, puts it in front of him with a pat, and leaves. At least she took the hint.

He huffs, looking at the paper. He should just burn it or throw it away, just get rid of it, but a small voice in his head makes his fingers itch to read it. _Destiny_ , it seems to whisper. Maybe he should just dump it in his ale, eat it, and never see it again.

But against his better judgment, he finds himself opening the folded piece of parchment and reading what’s written.

_Tip no. 1_

_When you tie your hair, do it loosely so a few strands escape. It will make him want to run his hands through your hair. Don’t hesitate to play with them._

_Tip no. 2_

_Try mimicking his actions to make him feel there's a subconscious bond between you._

_Tip no. 3_

_Make as much eye contact as you can. Don’t forget to smile._

“What the fuck?” he can’t help uttering, really confused. Are those seduction tips? Why the fuck would he need seductions tips? And very bad ones at that? At least it had the merit of snapping him out of his thoughts of Jaskier. It’s probably time for him to leave, this has been a weird day all around, he can look for a new job tomorrow.

He starts getting up when he notices suddenly that the music has stopped. He raises his head to meet Jaskier’s eyes, the man walking straight for his table.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Geralt of Rivia.”

Without consciously deciding to, Geralt’s ass falls back on his stool as Jaskier sits on the one in front of him.

“It’s been a while, old friend” says Jaskier with a smile, and Geralt internally flinches. He is sure his face didn’t show anything, but Jaskier immediately adds “Ah yes, sorry, not friends. Acquaintances? It’s hard to put a label on any relationship with a witcher.”

Geralt is just... speechless. He is definitely not a big talker, but it’s usually not for lack of things to say. Right now, he couldn’t utter anything even if he wanted to. His brain is empty but from images of Jaskier’s scruff against his lips.

“Hmm” he manages to get out, barely. That’s usually all it takes for Jaskier to keep talking. He never thought it would happen, but now he’s glad for it.

“I heard of your last exploits. But you know I like to hear my stories first hand, that’s what makes my songs so popular. Maybe you could spare a few hours to give me your account?”

“Hmm” is all that can come out of his mouth as his eyes are dragged to Jaskier’s collarbone. What the fuck is happening? Even his chemistry with Yennefer didn’t feel that strong. What should he do? He doesn’t know what, but he needs to do something, anything. He needs to be able to _think!_

That’s when his eyes land on the paper crumpled under his right hand. Uh.

_When you tie your hair, do it loosely so a few strands escape._

He thinks he already has a few strands out, but he is not sure. He instinctively reaches up to check, but realizes mid movement that it will look weird. Caught out, he keeps moving his hand until he can untie his hair completely. He runs his hand through it once before attaching it again loosely.

Jaskier is still talking, although Geralt thinks he heard an uptick in his voice at some point. Whatever. As long as he’s talking, everything is fine.

“But I definitely owe you, my most popular songs are all about you, my dear White Wolf” says Jaskier, leaning slightly forward with a crooked smile.

As if on cue, Geralt feels his body leaning in too, mimicking Jaskier’s movement. His fist closes around the piece of paper. Why is he following this?

He looks resolutely forward, afraid to draw attention to this stupid paper that feels like it’s burning his hand, when he meets Jaskier’s gaze. He never noticed how blue his eyes were. It’s quite a common color in humans, but it feels as if they pierce right through him and could see the turmoil inside his head. He suddenly can’t look away.

He licks his lips on instinct and oddly, stupidly, he tries to smile. His lips pull back to reveal his teeth and Jaskier’s eyes open wide.

“Okay, alright, I’m talking too much, I’ll shut up, please don’t bite my head off!” he exclaims, leaning backward with a placating gesture.

Geralt scowls again. It’s not going as planned. ( _Because there was a plan?_ mocks the voice in the back of his head).

“No.” he manages to say. That seems to slightly reassure the bard. Jaskier looks at him skeptically but quickly seems to decide to ignore what just happened.

“Okay, so, wanna come to my room to tell me what you’ve been up to these past few years? I’m ready to write a new ballad.” Jaskier says while getting up, and Geralt can do nothing else than follow without a word. It will only do him good to get out, it is starting to feel stuffy in here.

o*o*o

If the fresh air felt good for the few minutes they were outside, finding himself suddenly alone with Jaskier in his room feels like a very bad idea. Jaskier sits on the bed, plucking a few strings on his lute, and Geralt just stands there near the door, stiff and confused.

He takes a deep breath, willingly releasing the tension in his muscle, rolling his shoulders and closing his eyes a few seconds. It’s good, he’s good, he can do this. He just needs to find his voice, be able to utter a few words, and then he’ll be out of here.

“What’s this?” asks Jaskier, snapping Geralt out of his headspace. The bard got up and is walking toward Geralt, leaning to grab something off the floor. In a fit of panic, or as close to panic as a witcher can feel, Geralt suddenly realizes what it is. This fucking paper was still in his hand and fell down.

“No!” he croaks, but too late, Jaskier is already reading it. He sees the bard’s eyes widening and feels his own face reddening.

“It’s not what you think.” he says, crossing his arms and pinching his lips. He can feel his face aflame, but he can’t really do anything about it.

“I... you... you did all that earlier. Were you... Were you trying to _seduce_ me?” Jaskier asks, surprise and shock obvious on his face. His gaze goes from the paper to Geralt’s face, and he squeaks. “And are you _blushing_???”

Geralt stays silent, unsure what to do. This is awkward and terrible, what was he thinking? (He wasn’t.) Why did he follow him here?

His thoughts are cut short when Jaskier starts moving. One second he is staring at Geralt with eyes like saucers, and the next he is urgently ripping his clothes off, hopping on one leg toward the bed while removing his shoe.

“Wha-“ is all Geralt gets out before Jaskier looks at him with determination in his eyes.

“Well, aren’t you going to undress? I’d love for you to fuck me before you change your mind and start insulting me again.”

Geralt shakes himself and finally starts moving. This, he can do without thinking.

o*o*o

Afterwards, Geralt’s thoughts feel finally clear. Jaskier is leaning against his chest, working naked on a song with his lute, jokingly singing the White Wolf’s exploit in bed, and Geralt is absentmindedly stroking his arm. He can’t say he ever saw it coming, but he can’t imagine being anywhere else right now. Not even with Yennefer.

_Hung like a wolf_

_He will make you see stars_

_If only-_

Geralt puts his hand above Jaskier’s mouth to stop him from finishing his sentence. It’s good to have new ways to shut him up. Nonplussed, Jaskier licks his hand, making Geralt release him and wipe his hand on the sheets.

“You know, if you want me to shut up so bad, I can think of a few fun ways to do it other than insulting or cursing me now.” Jaskier adds with a smile and a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, and Geralt can’t suppress a smirk. Feeling benevolent, he decides to indulge Jaskier and leans forward to kiss him, shutting him up effectively. The lute is immediately forgotten, to Geralt’s joy.


End file.
